


Never Enough

by Zeebruh



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Changing Tenses, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, GRADENCE - Freeform, Grooming, M/M, Manipulative Gellert Grindelwald, POV Multiple, Past Relationship(s), Unhealthy Relationships, Young Dumbledore, Young Gellert Grindelwald, sad credence, selfish grindelwald
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 14:31:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9762251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeebruh/pseuds/Zeebruh
Summary: The similarities and differences between Credence Barebone and Albus Dumbledore - namely, the victimhood they were manipulated into by one Gellert Grindelwald.





	

**Author's Note:**

> "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" was not only a fantastic (see what I did there) film, but Graves' unsettling and emotionally abusive relationship with Credence really got me thinking about what young Albus and Gellert's relationship might have been like. Grindelwald clearly thrives on manipulating people's emotions, but I imagine that as a young teenager, that came with his own share of conflicting feelings. What really piqued my interest in the film was just how gifted Grindelwald was at making Credence feel special and just how convincing he was, all in order for his own personal gain. I can only see him doing the same with Albus. 
> 
> Apologies for any canonical discrepancies - I tried to do as much research as I could, but a lot of this is just the result of emotional ramble-writing. Mostly this is a series of scenes that I imagine could have potentially happened between characters, with constantly changing POVs (heh sorry I know this is the worst but I couldn't help it), with a few lines taken from "Fantastic Beasts" for good measure.

“What makes Albus Dumbledore so fond of you?” 

He feels the name escape his lips as he scrutinizes the awkward, tawny-haired Newt Scamander. It is a name that feels almost foreign to him now - has not been uttered in years. He notices the way Newt’s face changes when he says it, and perhaps he has said too much, but he doesn’t care. He’s truly curious, has never truly understood the way Albus favoured a certain kind of softness in people. It was his downfall. His only downfall.  


It was what doomed them. 

\--- 

“Gellert!” Albus burst through the door, breathless. He only realized the volume of his tone once Gellert asserted himself, almost concernedly, in Albus’ direction. 

“What is it?” the younger boy asked, dropping the quill that was poised atop his paper. 

Albus beamed, “I think I know where it is.” 

A switch of recognition immediately became apparent in Gellert’s face. 

“Which one?” 

“The stone. The stone, Gellert!” 

The blonde boy’s eyes lit up, but his mouth remained serious. “Where?” 

“I was reading an unpublished script called _The History of Magic Geology_ , and they described a stone found in Munich, I don’t believe they know what they had discovered but the description, Gellert, I truly--” 

But Gellert had already made his way across the room, and in an instant Albus found himself in an embrace with his taller counterpart. “The stone,” he breathed, and all but whispered, “I believe you.” His hand rested on the back of Albus’ neck. The way he always had it when they would embrace. “You absolute genius,” and his body was warm, Gellert's lithe muscles could be felt even beneath the layers of wool clothing he wore. 

“I am, aren’t I,” Albus couldn’t help but chuckle, in attempt to mask the flush he felt to his face. He hoped his cheeks weren’t too telling as Gellert pulled back enough to look at him, his hands positioning themselves on either side of Albus’ head. 

“Tell me,” his voice was still low, eyes dancing as he looked at the older boy. “When do we go?” 

Albus felt himself clear his throat, only noticing now that his own hands were at Gellert’s waist. He did not move them. “Go?” 

“To Munich,” he was smiling, his teeth a brilliant shade of white, “unless I cut you off too abruptly, Albus, forgive me, you hadn’t finished telling me--” 

“No, it is,” Albus had recollected his thoughts in those few moments, blinking rapidly to induce focus, “it is in Munich. At least, I think it still may be there. The facts line up, Gellert, I am sure of it.” 

“Tomorrow then. We will leave tomorrow. The both of us.” 

Albus’ eyebrows furrowed. “But, Gellert - tomorrow is too soon.” 

“Nonsense. It isn’t soon enough!” 

The shorter boy remained silent for a few moments, but could not bring himself to take his hands off Gellert. Then, softly, “What will I tell them?” 

Gellert sighed. “Albus, do not start this again. . .” 

“Will they forgive me, if I leave them?” 

The taller boy’s eyes flashed. “And why do you need their forgiveness, exactly? What have they done for you, Albus, besides cause you pain?” 

Albus looked down, but Gellert thumbed at his temple, and he looked up again. “My friend,” and somehow he was closer, “you have been so incredibly burdened. It pains me, too. But when will you realize that it will never get better for them if you stay? I cannot let you lose sight, Albus. They will be the death of you, if you stay. Everything in here,” and his hand slid up to the older boy’s hair, “in this great mind will dim. It will fade, and they will be the slow death of you.” 

“They. . .” he swallowed, “they’re only children, Gellert. . ." 

“Remember. For the greater good, Albus.” His eyes were poring into Albus’, who stood four inches below him. Gellert was tall, though his presence would be just as immeasurable if he wasn’t. Albus looked at the boy - the man - in front of him and he saw a fire that could never be extinguished. He was the most wonderfully alive person that Albus had ever known, and he came into his life just when Albus thought he would never feel alive again. He blinked, letting Gellert’s words sink in. It was true. They had a vision. A vision that would help everyone - Aberforth, more importantly, Ariana - that would create an order that the world so desperately needed. Gellert was only inches away from him, so that Albus could feel his cool breath on him. He noticed Gellert’s eyes scanning his face for the reassurance he so desperately wanted.

“For the greater good,” Albus breathed. 

\--- 

When Grindelwald (as Graves) touches Credence he feels something beneath his fingers that is reminiscent of Albus. The youth they once shared together, the desire, the longing. It’s hard to forget that. How malleable Albus was. The way his ears turned red when Gellert would catch him staring, during their long sessions of furiously researching and scribbling in books - and how Gellert’s lips would turn up into the coyest of smiles, because Albus was his friend but he knew that the way Albus’ eyes wandered and lingered and sparkled in Gellert’s presence meant something more. Gellert hadn't always understood his friend, but he knew that he could bring out the best in him. The determinism in him. He knew that a simple touch of his cheek, brushing of his fingers against his hair, close breath on his neck when they would whisper at night so not to wake Bathilda, were enough to keep Albus by his side. Enough to keep him excited, enough to keep him needing Gellert.  
Of course, he doesn’t value Credence the way he once valued Albus. 

But Credence, the pathetic, sniffling young squib, shows an interest in the magical world that Grindelwald simply cannot resist. It’s too perfect, the way he can rest a hand on the boy’s shoulder and have him spilling information almost instantaneously. It’s too easy. Some days he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he could keep this boy around - and then he remembers that it would go against every fibre of his being to do so. A squib. Perhaps more pitiful, more savage, more misguided than a Muggle. Caught in a purgatory between two worlds. So he reminds himself that once the boy’s usefulness has expired, Grindelwald needs him no more. But for now, Credence makes it too easy. They meet in the shadows and he speaks to him in soft yet urgent tones. He makes the boy look him in the eyes, he is sure to touch his wounds in the tenderest of ways while he heals them. He does everything that no one else would ever be willing to do, that no one else has ever done, and it’s simple as that. Credence is dough in his hands. And perhaps what makes it all the more attractive is how much it feels like the way it did with Albus. 

Only - with less resistance. 

\--- 

Albus resisted as much as he could. 

“I don’t think I can leave them, Gellert.” 

It was the fifth time today that Albus had told him this. They had already stalled a few days to embark on their trip, because of Albus' nervousness. Gellert had maintained a calm facade for long enough, but at this point could not help but rake his hands through his hair in frustration. “Albus, we’ll only be gone a few days. A week at most!” 

“You know that’s not true,” his friend sighed, “it simply will not be enough time for us. Think of it, Gellert--” 

“Bring them, then." His voice was steady. 

Albus paused. “What?” 

“Bring them. Tell Bathilda--” he racked his brain for a moment, “that it's a sibling trip. Bring them, if you feel it not right to leave without them.”  
Albus’ eyes sparkled. Before Gellert could say another word, Albus had flung his arms around him. He could feel the shorter boy’s face pressed into his shoulder, and Gellert’s hand instinctively nestled on the back of Albus’ neck. He felt Albus’ breath hitch at the touch, and then settle. “Thank you,” he whispered, tightening his grip just enough for Gellert to feel Albus’ heartbeat against his own chest. “Thank you, my friend.” 

Gellert said nothing, because he did not need to. He secretly knew Albus would never actually bring Aberforth and Ariana, and if he attempted it Gellert would simply deal with it if the time came, but he also knew exactly how to ease the moments that Albus’ guilt overtook him. So, he only held Albus, said nothing, and it was enough to make Gellert feel more alive than ever. 

\---

“Your mother is dead. That’s your reward.” 

As the words leave his lips he almost feels a twinge of remorse, for the pitiful, huddled mass of a human standing on the dark stairs. Almost. 

\--- 

The only time he has ever felt a moment true remorse was immediately following the death of Ariana Dumbledore. The greenness of Godric’s Hollow and the paleness of Ariana’s corpse; Aberforth, incoherent with grief, bent in agony over her body just moments after the curse had hit her. But those were nothing compared to the image of Albus’ face, ridden with shock and horror - an image that used to be burned into Gellert’s skull. Now, it is a mere memory. 

“Albus,” Gellert’s own breath was shaken, and he was gripping Albus’ shoulders harder than he had intended. “Albus, listen to me--” 

“ _Why_?” The shorter boy’s eyes finally focused on Gellert’s face, and tears began to stream from them. His words came out slowly, thick with disbelief. “Why. . . did you provoke him? You knew. . . he was. . . he had anger. . . _why_ Gellert?” 

Gellert could not speak, and then the words came spilling out, “They were always going to hold us back, Albus, please -- he was trying to keep us from fulfilling our destiny--” 

Albus fought himself out of Gellert’s restraint, his chest heaving. “You were torturing him!” he yelled, and his face was contorted with rage. He was suddenly so far away. “And she -- she -- oh god, _Gellert, she’s_ \--” 

It was then, that it was too much for him - Gellert, his wand fresh of the Cruciatus curse, Ariana Dumbledore cold with death, and Albus racked with anguish and falling to his knees. It was in that moment that Gellert knew he must leave, and never look back. 

And he never did. 

\--- 

Before Credence Barebone had exposed himself as the Obscurus, Grindelwald believed Credence Barebone to be the most pitiful human he had ever met. Nevertheless, he allowed himself to relish the way Credence would melt into his touch. 

The way his lips could brush Credence’s ear and have the boy desire him. Desire to be molded by him, desire to do just about anything that Grindelwald needed. He was fueled by Credence’s need to be validated by him, the pathetically unsuccessful way that Credence tried to mask his lust for him. He gives Credence the necklace that bears the Hallows. He feels himself winning the trust of the boy in the simple gesture. 

He tells him, “Do this, and you will be honoured among wizards. Forever,” so convincingly that Grindelwald, speaking in Graves’ calming voice, already knows that Credence will obey him. Will worship him. He pulls Credence close to him, and settles his hand on the nape of the boy’s neck. 

Credence’s breath hitches, and then stills.

**Author's Note:**

> "Fantastic Beasts" references, see: first line, third last scene, and second last line of the fic. Also some references to the "Deathly Hallows" backstory of Albus and Grindelwald, aka. their search for the Hallows is what that whole "I've found the stone!" thing was about. Though, the "History of Magic Geology" and Munich was my bizarro attempt to set up the scene :P also sorry for all the confusing feels ahh it's only because I have much confusing feels about basically all these characters but mostly young Albus and young Gellert. Feel free to leave a comment/critique, and hope you enjoyed :)


End file.
